The Fifth Envelope
by Wynjara
Summary: The people he trusts most in the world. Why only those ones? Minute spoilers for sixth season.


_Because I found it hard to believe that he wouldn't want her there. And because parts of this wrote themselves in my mind and made me cry, so others needed to also. _

The Fifth Envelope

Luke wasn't particularly surprised to hear the distinctive grind of the TARDIS materializing upstairs. He looked at his mother's sleeping face and decided she wasn't likely to wake soon, then left K-9 to watch over her as he went up to greet the Doctor.

In his hand he held a blue envelope, with a vague message printed on it. A time; a date; map coordinates.

He reached the top of the stairs nearly at the same moment that the Doctor opened the door and stepped out. It had been years since they had last met- or rather, Luke corrected himself carefully, since _he_ had met the Doctor. Those years were nearly invisible on the Time Lord; his eyes looked tired, for just a moment, but his masking grin came out and the projection of energy he always carried off hid the exhaustion.

"Luke Smith! Look at you, all grown! And your moth-" His cheerful greeting died off when he saw the envelope. Quietly, barely audibly, he murmured, "That's why she wasn't there..."

"Mum never saw it," Luke said. "I figured who it had to be from, and I know you wouldn't just send her something without it being important, but this- she's sick, Doctor, and she's getting older. This would have killed her."

The Doctor slumped onto the couch, accepting the open envelope from the teen. "I never can keep track..." He trailed off, then looked Luke directly in the eye. "I would never do anything to harm her. I should have thought, or at least should have come to see her, but I was- I was running." He became more serious than Luke had ever seen him, and for once it wasn't hard to see the thousands of years looming behind those eyes. "I was trying to run from everything, and when I stopped all I could think was how much I wanted those I loved with me. There have been so many amazing people I've traveled with, people I've known, but my Sarah Jane- oh, she was always something special. She and the Brigadier knew me for so long, and I failed him again..." He trailed into silence, studying the post card.

"You were dying. I heard rumors," Luke said bluntly. The Doctor nodded slightly. "And you wanted to surround yourself with friends." Another nod. "Mum would understand."

"She's dying herself," the Time Lord said sadly, not entirely asking but not certain either. Luke nodded.

"Maybe a few more weeks, at most. She's pretty comfortable, most of the time, but there's really nothing to do for her other than keep her company." The Doctor didn't seem able to verbalize his request, so Luke simply said, "Of course you can see her."

* * *

><p>They stood in the doorway, just watching her sleep. Age sat kindly with Sarah, changing her from the perky, curious girl she had once been to the steady, investigative, supportive woman she had become. The Doctor felt a tug between his hearts, in the place reserved for endings and beginnings. This was an ending, he knew, and even if he could pop back and see her from a distance at any other point in her life, he knew they would never speak after this, she would never be his Sarah Jane again.<p>

He felt a tear escape as he took Luke's chair beside the bed, imprinting every detail of his longtime friend, every strand of hair, every wrinkle, every tiny freckle. He was comparing his memory of their first meeting when he felt a cool hand slip into his.

"Hello, Doctor," came a soft, tired voice.

"Hello, Sarah Jane," he replied, his own voice catching. He wiped away the traces of his tear with his free hand and she smiled.

"It's ok, Doctor. Really, it is." Luke helped her to sit up against piled pillows, then sat beside her on the bed after glancing at the Doctor to see if they wanted privacy. He didn't think the Time Lord really even remembered he was there.

"It's really ok," Sarah Jane insisted, squeezing his hand for emphasis. "I've lived such an amazing life, seen so many things! And I've done so much, and I had Luke and the others. To be able to look around and know that I made an impact in so many lives- I almost feel like a doctor myself, making things better where I could." She smiled broadly. He returned the smile crookedly.

"My Sarah Jane," he said again, shaking his head fondly. "You made so many things better, made me so much better, and I am so glad you were such a nosy reporter all those years ago." He hesitated, then offered, "I don't suppose you'd fancy just one last trip?"

Her face fell slightly, but she still sounded content. "Oh Doctor, I think I'm almost ready for my last trip already. Trying to go now, there'd be too much to look out for, too many things I would try to do that I couldn't... I think my travels now will be in words, in thoughts and stories. I wrote a book, did you know? It's printed as a fiction story, but it's all in there. Dinosaurs and all," she chuckled hoarsely, and he had to laugh as well, remembering the foolish risks he'd taken back then and conveniently forgetting the ones he continued to take.

"We're all stories in the end," he said when their laughter had trickled out. "And ours, oh, it was one of the good ones. One of the best." The last words came out wavering, and she reached out her arms to pull him into a hug. With a quiet sob he gathered her up, putting out an arm to bring her son in as well.

* * *

><p>He stayed the rest of that day and into the night, both talking and sitting silently, disappearing downstairs for nearly an hour 'to get some tea' and allowing the family time together alone. He returned conspicuously without tea just as Sarah was about to sleep again. He kissed her forehead once as he took the chair again. Their eyes met, and he knew.<p>

He began to whisper, telling her his memories of their adventures, of their many meetings and partings, and the places they had been. Luke came to stand behind him, one hand on his shoulder, adding his own stories of both their shared adventures and ones he'd undergone alone, of the things he and his friends still did to keep their corner of the universe safe. They recounted her strength and joy, her bravery and love, and their shared memory carried her off when she died.


End file.
